


whatever a moon has always meant

by Figuratively_Speaking



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 17:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5751553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Figuratively_Speaking/pseuds/Figuratively_Speaking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>and whatever a sun will always sing is you<br/>--<br/>In which Lee is everyone's least favorite white Republican, Lafayette works at a coffee shop, Laurens and Hamilton fall in love, and Aaron Burr just wants his roommate to stop talking to himself at 3 AM.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fool

**Author's Note:**

> Title from an e. e. cummings poem. Pardon any mischaracterization, I'm still trying to get back into the swing of things. Each "chapter" is based off of one of the Major Arcana tarot cards, because I saw that idea somewhere on livejournal forever and a day ago and I thought it sounded cool. I might end up doing the minor arcana too if I really hate myself and want to procrastinate? Anyways. Here's these nerdy revolutionary manumission abolitionists' first meeting(it's actually just Lams but w/e)

_Beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit_

  


     This is the only thing that John Laurens can think when he first truly notices Alexander Hamilton: Wow. He’s taken aback, breathless, inexplicably drawn to this bright-eyed boy who talks too much and too loudly, especially if you ask his roommate, a certain Aaron Burr. He raises his hand in Lee’s class to “answer” a question, and he’s still not finished when the allotted period ends. John Laurens lingers, waiting for him to run out of words, but he just keeps talking about how incorrect Lee’s teaching methods are, and how he lets his personal biases poison the lessons. John completely agrees, but he never thought anyone would ever tell the professor that to his face, especially not the unassuming, baby-faced kid who always had enthusiastic questions and insightful responses to any questions Lee proposed. Given, they hadn’t even been in the class for very long, but clearly that hasn’t stopped Alexander from forming a very strong opinion.

     “Who the fuck is this kid?” Mutters some senior who is probably only in this class because they need it to graduate. John shakes his head in astonishment, because Alexander Hamilton speaks in paragraphs without stopping to think, like they just appear in his head, fully formed, and it’s hard to even hear what’s he’s saying, because John is too busy admiring him.

     When almost everyone is packed and starting to head out the door, he seems to run out of steam, pausing and saying, “But, I mean, this will probably go right over your head because you seem to think university students are still elementary schoolers, and you’re intellectually superior to us, which is not even remotely true, considering I just taught you more about how to teach than you taught me about politics in all of the time we’ve been in this class.”

     “Damn,” Thomas Jefferson mutters from behind him, and while Laurens doesn’t pay attention to campus politics, he knows that Jefferson and Alexander’s arguments are famous, so if Thomas is rendered speechless, John probably just saw history get made.

      “The dean will hear about this, Mr. Hamilton,” Lee spits after a moment of shock. Alex just shrugs, taking his time packing his bag. Everyone else practically runs out of the classroom, but John shoulders his backpack and quietly walks over to the boy, who stood a few inches above him-not that it was hard to be taller than John, he hadn’t grown much since sophomore year of high school.

     “So, you’re Alexander Hamilton?” he just wants to make sure he has the right guy. And, he likes saying ‘Alexander Hamilton’. The other student looks up with a start.

     “Yes! That is definitely my name. And you are?” Alex’s attention is solely on him, and John feels a little uncomfortable underneath his intense, intelligent gaze.

     “John Laurens. That was probably the best thing that will ever happen in this class, so thanks for that,” he looks over and sees Lee glaring at the two of them, mostly Alexander. He sees Alex notice, too, and he bites his lip, looking like he’s about to take a leap of faith.

     “Nice meeting you, Laurens. I think Lee might try and shoot me if I stay in his classroom any longer, because he’s actually pro-guns for some strange, old white dude reason, not that I’m surprised, because everything about him just screams gun-toting Republican, but, my point was, do you wanna grab a coffee?” John is pleasantly surprised by the request, and nods.

     “Monmouth is the place to be this time of day, I might be able to get Lafayette to give us free lattes,” Laurens replies.

     “Lafayette?” Alexander grins, looking excited, “I love that guy! You know him, too? It’s my second year here, how come we’ve never met before?”

     “I just transferred to Columbia this year, my dad finally let me move out,” Laurens admits, without entirely meaning to. Alex looks a little less excited at the mention of John’s dad, but since there’s no discernible reason why, he brushes it off. “Anyways, how about we go now?” Another glance back at Professor Lee indicates that this is the best course of action.

     “Agreed,” It’s the shortest response he’s given so far, and they head out of the classroom side by side, ignoring Lee’s hateful gaze burning holes in their backs.


	2. The Magician

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette is basically a Coffee Shop Saint after putting up with Hercules Mulligan every day during lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 in a fairly short span of time because these chapters are like five words long lmao

      _Power, skill, concentration, action, resourcefulness_

      The hardest part about Lafayette’s job was not having to remember order after order after order(he had an excellent memory), or learning all of the drink recipes and keeping them straight(again, he was basically a genius). No, the hardest part of his job was Hercules Mulligan.

      Hercules was definitely one of his best friends, with the only one coming close being Hamilton, but there was no denying that he turned Monmouth Coffee into a disaster zone when he stopped by in between classes. He was under the (correct) assumption that Lafayette just gave free food to all of his friends now that this was his job, but there was a significant difference between asking for a pastry from the customer’s side of the counter and sneaking into the back room to eat the latest supply of _pain au chocolat_ before it even made it to the front counter.

      The difference was that one of these had the possible side effect of Lafayette getting _fired_ , which wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but he liked working at Monmouth, he got to observe American culture from a fresh perspective. It was his second year, and he still had trouble keeping up with the language. He could speak as quickly and eloquently as Hamilton in French, but mastering English to the same level proved difficult. Hercules and Hamilton helped him out, but it still wasn't the easiest task.

      "Hercules, if you lay one hand on those pastries, you will never again set a foot in this shop!" Lafayette called in a heavy accent to his friend as the enormous student jumped behind the counter. While Lafayette was the taller of the two, Mulligan was much broader, with huge muscles and a way of appearing to fill up more space than he did. Hercules just grinned at him, already creeping slowly towards the entrance to the back room.

      "Not even if I have permission?" he asked, looking hopeful. Lafayette narrowed his eyes.

      "You do not have permission," Not like that would affect anything. A customer would come in, and Hercules would seize the opportunity to steal away into the back room as soon as Lafayette was distracted. Surely enough, the bell on the door rang, and in walked John Laurens and Hamilton. Together? Lafayette raised an eyebrow at Hercules. The two hadn't met before, mainly because Laurens was still new to Colombia, but Lafayette had privately considered setting the two of them up. Now, it seemed his work was already done for him.

      "Bonjour, mes amis," he greeted the pair of them. "It looks like you've met each other, now. The four best men on campus gathered in one spot."

      Hamilton raised an eyebrow, looking around the shop. "Where's Mulligan?"

      Lafayette heard Laurens snicker as he frantically whirled around to look at the empty spot where Hercules had been standing just moments before with dismay. " _Merde_!" he exclaimed, throwing open the door and catching Hercules pulling a pan of croissants out of the tiny oven that the shop used to reheat the pre-packaged pastries they were sent. Lafayette cursed at him in long strings of near incoherent French, causing the other student to nearly drop the pan. Looking almost a little terrified, he set the pan down, then held his hands up in surrender.

      "I don't know what you just said, but I'm going to assume you threatened to kill me, because you're Laff. No pastry is worth my life. Also, I already ate some of them before you came in here, but you can't undo what's already been done," Hercules stated, but looked a little doubtful when Lafayette narrowed his eyes. They headed back up front, where there was a short line of students waiting to order drinks, with Hamilton and John at the front. At least their presence meant no one would have been able to steal cash from the register.

      "Those were quite the death threats, Lafayette," Hamilton complimented. 

      "You could hear?" Lafayette asked, at the same time that Laurens asked, looking impressed, "You speak French?"

      "Oui, et oui," Hamilton replied, "I grew up in St. Croix."

      "You both want the usual, yes?" They both looked back at Lafayette, nodding.

      Finally, an easy job. "You two are my favorites because you always want the same thing. Except during finals week, mon Dieu. I have never seen anyone drink as much espresso as our Hamilton and not drop dead."

      "I didn't have to go to the hospital, so I will, in all probability, repeat the same process this finals week without any regrets whatsoever," Alexander said. Lafayette set their drinks on the counter, and Hamilton pulled some bills out of his pocket and handed them over. "That's for both of them, since I held up Lee's class today."

      Laurens rolled his eyes, "I should be paying you for that, but thank you."

      Hamilton winked at Lafayette while John was taking his coffee, and they exchanged a secret smile. It was always painstakingly obvious whenever Alexander discovered a new prospect, and that appeared to be the case with a Laurens. They were a good match; from separate conversations with them, it seemed like their political views were near-identical, which was an important quality to both of them. But, he would have time to dwell on that more later. As he watched Hercules pretend to sulk out of the shop, a croissant peeking out of his jacket pocket, Lafayette shook his head, focusing on the methodical process of running a coffee shop single-handedly for the next hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merde!=shit! in case anyone was wondering.  
> also i know laurens could doubtlessly speak French but in this au he can't bc there wasn't a good reason for him to speak it fluently


	3. The High Priestess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hamilton meets with the Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, since these are all really short, it seems plausible to publish one a day. I was half asleep when I published chapter two yesterday, so hopefully that isn't riddled with strange phrases and typos, but anyways. Here comes the general! i basically demonized charles lee for the sake of this fic sorry if that offends anyone but he's dead so :/

_Wisdom, knowledge, learning, intuition, purity, virtue, a lack of patience, a teacher_

     It's not two days later that Hamilton is summoned by the Dean of Students, and he has the pleasure of missing part of his French class. He needed a language credit, and Spanish and German had somehow both been full by the time he remembered to register for classes. He was pretty sure he hadn't gotten anything below a 100 on any of his assignments so far. Maybe he could ask Washington to transfer him into a different language class during their "meeting". He waited outside the office until Washington opened the door, letting a freshman who looked more than a little terrified dash back to class. The dean frowned at him, gesturing him inside. Hamilton stood up, sitting in his favorite chair. He'd been in here enough times to develop a personal attachment to it.

      "You know why you're in here, Alexander," Washington sounded exasperated with him. Alex just shrugged, thinking back to Lee's class and regretting literally nothing. He finally got to say everything that was on his mind when he was in that class, see the shocked and infuriated look on the teacher's face, and grab coffee with John Laurens, which may have been the best part of the ordeal, looking back. They had sat in the shop and discussed campus life and classes, exchanging numbers when it was time to part ways. Given that Alexander hadn't scared Laurens off with the Lee incident, there was already a promising beginning to their relationship.

      "I didn't say anything that wasn't true, and you know it. Why is he still teaching here? Everyone hates him. You don't even like him!" Alex knew he was allowed a little more freedom to speak his mind to Washington than others, and he would be lying if he didn't occasionally take advantage of it. Well, he would probably have his outbursts anyway, considering, as Burr so liked to tell him, he didn't know when to shut up and just smile in agreement or apology. That wasn't how he lived his life. It was better to speak your mind than to be a spineless liar, in his opinion.

      "Son, you can't take up valuable class time to list all of the reasons why you hate someone. I'll remind you that you're here through an academic scholarship, and turning all of your teachers against you is not the way to keep that scholarship," Washington chided.

      "First of all, don't call me son. Secondly, I'm not turning  _all_ of my teachers against me, just Lee for now. I bet you could ask Jefferson his opinion on him and he would tell you the exact same thing. He's a horrible teacher, and his views are horrible. He won't even look at any of the female students when they raise her hands in class, it's like he thinks they don't belong there. You have to secure his removal; he's a stain on this school's reputation," Hamilton shot back, crossing his arms and trying to look as threatening as a short, baby-faced twenty year old was capable of looking.

       "Alexander," Washington paused, shaking his head, "It's not my job to remove teachers, and even if it was, I'm not going to take someone out of their position just because you don't like him. Lee's been with the college for a long time, he's a respected member of the staff."

      "How could anyone respect him? He's reprehensible. I'm pretty sure he partly hates me because I'm an immigrant, which is bigoted and unfair. He shouldn't be allowed to teach his beliefs to college students," Alexander was adamant on this front. He wouldn't stand for a classroom environment where there was a possibility people who were like him, except less secure in their worthiness of a spot at Columbia, might feel uncomfortable, and neither would Washington.

      "If you really feel that strongly about it, I can have someone sit in on his classes and observe, but without more testimonies of his behavior, that's all I can do," Washington relented, making a note on a piece of paper. "Get back to class, Alexander."

      "Oh, yeah, about that, are there any openings in the other language classes yet?" Hamilton asked, feeling just a little guilty for asking a favor when he was technically in trouble.

      Washington smiled a little. "You're relentless, Alexander. There's an opening in second year German, but you would have to work a lot harder to keep up. Think you can manage it?"

      Alex snorted. "Yeah, like you have to ask. I'll catch up this week and jump in next week? Send me my updated schedule when it's ready. Please."

      "Don't get into any more trouble," Washington ordered, gesturing towards the door. Hamilton got up and walked out of the Dean's office, feeling a sense of victory despite the fact that no real action had been taken. He was starting to make a difference here. Or trying to, at the very least. That was "satisfactory", if only for the moment. He walked out onto the campus quad, spotting Lafayette and Laurens sitting on a bench facing the fountain. Alexander headed towards them, ready to share the good news.


	4. The Empress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angelica has a tendency to come to sudden realizations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what better chapter to introduce everyone's favorite older sister than 'the empress'? enjoy!

_Fertility, femininity, beauty, nature, abundance_

 

Angelica is a woman of many words, but when she walks into the library and sees Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens sitting at one of the tables together, a small bag of chips and an enormous book between them, she's speechless. Not because she's still a little in love with him and it hurts, and not because he's actually meeting people and it surprises her, but because he  _didn't tell her_. She had always considered herself to be Alex's confidant, so it was a bit of a blow to her self esteem. She pointedly sits at the table right next to them, clearing her throat as she pulls her Organic Chemistry textbook out of her bag, being much noisier than was necessary. She sees Alex glance at her nervously, and John Laurens, who she has never formally met but has heard a lot about, looks concerned.

      "Um," Alexander says, finally, "Hey, Angelica. I was going to call you yesterday, but I got caught in with my new Political History project, and by the time I remembered, it was 3 AM."

      She wants to be rude and pretend she was awake at that hour, but no one can live on as little sleep as Alexander can, and there's only so much concealer can do for under-eye bags. Angelica has problems sleeping already, she didn't need to compound the problem by messing up her sleep schedule. Lafayette spoils Hamilton with ludicrous amounts of free coffee, but she doesn't have the same luxury. "And the day before?" she asks, returning to the matter at hand.

      "I was with Laf and Laurens. And Hercules, later. Also, I met with Washington about Lee. They're sending someone to survey the class, like that's going to fix everything." Whenever Alexander mentions Lafayette and Hercules at the same time, Angelica just automatically assumes alcohol is involved. However, she can read him better than anyone, and his eyes seem a little softer when he talks about it. It seems like something she should ask him about later, though, when Laurens isn't looking between them calmly as they converse. She figures she should probably acknowledge him, before he reaches any incorrect conclusions.

      "You must be the John Laurens I've heard so much about." He raises an eyebrow at her, surprised that she already knows who he is. "Lafayette, Hercules, and I think Peggy may have mentioned you once or twice. She's my baby sister." Peggy had a crush on him at the beginning of the year, is what she doesn't say, but by the way he shifts a little in his chair, he knows. Of course, she'd moved on after Angelica had passed on Lafayette's confession that Laurens was strictly into men, but that wasn't before she'd lamented about his numerous freckles on more than one occasion. They _were_ pretty adorable, she had to admit.

      "Yeah, I think we have German together. You're Angelica, then? I haven't been here long, but everyone knows the Schuyler sisters," Laurens replies, and she can tell he's going to be smart enough to handle Hamilton. Well, handle him as much as anyone can. She glances at her friend, and he looks a little terrified to see them talking to each other. John must be a relatively new acquaintance, then. Clearly, Alexander is continuing the pattern of hiding his new partners from her until things are looking stable, if only because she "accidentally" scared so many of them off after he and Eliza had broken up last year. She looks out for her sisters, even at the cost of Alexander's feelings. They'd already moved past that, though. 

      "Second year German?" Hamilton asks Laurens, looking excited. She takes this to mean one of two things: either Alexander's linguistics fetish hasn't died yet, or he's finally been moved into a different language class. She sincerely hopes it is the latter, because somehow she doubts he'll be satisfied with a second year German student, considering how poor Peggy's grammar still is.

      "Yes?" Laurens looks confused, but he smiles back regardless when Alexander's face lights up. He nudges his shoulder lightly, and Angelica realizes that Hamilton  _actually_ likes this boy with countless freckles and soft hazel eyes. It's a thrilling and terrifying thing to consider, especially knowing that the only other person he really liked is Eliza.

      "I just got switched into that class from French! We'll have a class together," Hamilton grabs a handful of chips from the bag between the two boys and offers some to Angelica. She shakes her heard, raising an eyebrow at him.

      "Alexander, we already have a class together. That is literally how we are... Friends," Laurens seems nervous to use the word, but there's no need. Hamilton doesn't keep anyone around who he deems unworthy of friendship.

      "Lee doesn't count, though, because soon he'll be gone. I hope. If everything goes according to plan, we'll have a new teacher by the end of term, or at least a long term substitute until they can find a suitable replacement." Angelica snorts. He thinks if he plans far enough ahead, everything will naturally fall into place just how he thinks it will. Sometimes, he's right.

      "Well, I'll leave you two to it, I have studying to do. Nice to finally meet you, John Laurens. Alexander,  _call me later_ ," she emphasizes in an attempt to get her words to stick to his brain somewhere between everything else that's always flying around up there. He nods, but she's pretty sure he won't remember. She shakes her head at him one final time before picking her textbook back up and heading to a more secluded section of the library.


	5. The Emperor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Laurens recieves a call from his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahaa this is SO overdue, I've been majorly neglecting this and I don't really have an excuse, sorry about that. Hopefully I can post more than one chapter this weekend to make up for it? But anyways, here's John's dad being kind of a dick and then some ridiculous Ham and Jefferson interaction to make up for it.

_Accomplishment, confidence, wealth, stability, leadership, father/brother/husband, achievement, a capable person_

For the most part, John's dad isn't his least favorite person in the world, but he always calls at the worst possible times. Like, he's called in the middle of John hooking up with a guy, and that just so happened to be the first time he ever ignored one of his father's calls. Of course, his dad had then called eight more times until John was forced to break away from the boy he was with to answer his phone put an end to the heckling, making up an excuse for being away from his phone. It was a very traumatic experience. However, the first time Henry Laurens calls after John has been at Columbia for a few weeks already, he's in a bar.

      The setting: Alexander, Laurens, Lafayette, and Mulligan sitting on barstools in that order from left to right, all of them leaning against the counter and running up a very large tab. There is the loud clanging of drinks and silverware from the assorted, full tables behind them, and every so often the sports crowd cheers or shouts at the single TV situated towards the back, displaying the football games. John feels his phone vibrating in his pocket, and he pulls it out, already feeling a strange stab of dread. That feeling intensifies when he sees 'Dad calling...' lit up on the screen. He nudges Laf, who looks away from Hercules trying to balance a shot glass on his forehead.

      "My dad is calling, I'll be back in a couple of minutes," Laurens tells him, already standing up. Lafayette looks apprehensive, but nods. He knows all about the situation with his dad, which is that they disagree on almost anything and Henry pretends John's "abnormal sexual preference" doesn't exist. John can handle the passive aggressive slights and condemnation, though, as long as he still has someone paying for his college. Most people aren't fortunate enough to have what he has, so he tries not to complain too much. He hates being a burden.

      Alex turns when Laurens pushes the barstool back under the bar, raising a concerned eyebrow. He holds up five fingers and then points towards the door, indicating he won't be gone long. His friend's eyes are still narrowed, apparently sensing John's sudden tenseness, but a quick shoulder squeeze has him turning back to his drink, joking with the bartender and tapping one hand incessantly on the stone top of the bar, eyes fixed on everything but him. Laurens smiles, a little too fond of this boy he barely knows but desperately wants to, and makes his way outside.

      The night air is suddenly cool on his skin, and a harsh wind blows the stray pieces of hair that aren't pulled up into his eyes. When he looks back down at his phone, he realizes that he has missed his dad's first call, and waits for the second one. It doesn't take long, and he hits the answer button, bracing himself and leaning against the outside of the building. Streetlights brighten his peripheral vision, but in front of him lies only a dim parking lot filled with empty cars. Even though his friends are just inside and he is currently about to begin a conversation with someone, he feels very, very alone.

      "John?" His dad doesn't sound too angry. That's a good start, maybe? Laurens raps his knuckles against the bricks behind him, trying to stay calm.

      "Hi, Dad. Was there something you needed?" he asks, possibly a little too harshly. He squeezes his eyes shut. He should have just turned his phone off.

      "Do I need an excuse to talk to my oldest son?" Henry snaps, his voice rising slightly in volume.

      "No. I was just wondering, because I'm out with my friends right now, and if it's not important, then maybe we could talk later?" John tries to choose his words carefully, barely even sounding like himself to his own ears.

      "I just wanted to make sure you were staying out of trouble. You know what happens if you don't  _toe the line_ ," Henry says these last three words with an unnecessary amount of emphasis, as if Laurens does not understand single syllable words suddenly.

      "I'm not starting any fights." He mentally tacks on a 'yet' to this sentence, because he's friends with Alexander Hamilton now, and there's no way he's going to escape conflict of some kind when he's around him. 

      "And you're staying away from the wrong crowd?" his father prompts after a moment of silence. John bristles at the loaded meaning of this question. Really, he could be referring to any number of wrong things. He decides not to mention the fact that he hangs out with a bunch of LGBTQ+ rights activists with more alcohol than sense, and more sense than money.

      "Define wrong crowd."

      "We've talked about this before, Jack," John shudders at the family nickname, just like he does every time someone uses it. "As the son of a senator, you need to associate with people of similar standing."

      John is about to launch into a reply regarding this, but he pauses when Lafayette and Hercules hang out of the door of the bar, waving him inside very urgently and wearing matching grins. "Um, Dad, something just came up, can I call you back later?" He won't.

      "This conversation isn't finished, you had better." His father knows it, too. He hangs up with a quick goodbye and walks the few paces back into the bar, preparing for the worst. Instead, what he sees is Alexander and Thomas Jefferson, surrounded by shot glasses and very, very drunk. They seem to be locked in a very intense, angry stare-down, but when Laf and Mulligan sneak up behind him, leaving the bar door to slam shut, Hamilton turns. A grin spreads across his friend's face, and Laurens feels like a high schooler again, his stomach doing acrobatics.

      "Look, Jeff, my posse came back to watch me kick your ass! C'mere, my dear Laurens," Alex makes a sloppy beckoning motion with one hand, ignoring Thomas when he tells him not to "call me fucking Jeff, you degenerate". John steps forward cautiously, until Lafayette shoves him. He takes the bar-stool on Hamilton's left, seeing as how Lafayette's doppelganger has taken his previous seat.

      "How much did you drink?" John asks, taking a headcount of all the glasses on the counter, though it's hard to tell who drank what.

      "More than Thomas fucking Jefferson, that's how many!" Alex shouts, and they both break out into laughter, followed quickly by Hercules and Lafayette.

      "He's just trying to impress you, there's no way he drank more than me," Jefferson remarks, maintaining his usual dryness, but his cheeks are flushed, and his eyes have that wild quality that only comes from consuming a large amount of alcohol in a short period of time.

      Hamilton hits Jefferson's shoulder, demanding a recount and tugging on Jeferson's untamed mane of hair, but this is a vast improvement from the normal interactions, so that's the final confirmation that they have both had more than enough. And Laurens wasn't even gone for very long. He turns toward Lafayette. 

      "I'm really disappointed that I missed whatever made this happen, but I think he's done for the night. One more round for the three of us, and then we head home?" he proposes, and they nod. He conveys this to the bartender, being very clear about not giving Alex or Thomas any more to drink, despite their very loud protests.

      They enjoy their last beer between stories of other drunken antics, and then carpool a rowdy Alexander home in amicable silence. Hercules drops John off last, and they exchange farewells before his friend drives off, leaving him alone in front of his dorm building. He grins up at the night sky before heading inside. His dorm is quiet and empty when he unlocks the door, but doesn't call his father back, and he doesn't have an ounce of regret.


End file.
